


Afterglow

by MaraschinoSqueeze



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Afterglow, Enochian language, Established Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, F/M, Fluff, Post-Season/Series 04, Protective Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), The entire purpose of this fic was fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and then go find something with angst since I know that’s what you really desire, post-coital snuggling, really you should all brush your teeth after reading this, you little devils
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22120525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraschinoSqueeze/pseuds/MaraschinoSqueeze
Summary: Prompt from @alwaysstrog on Twitter: "I wanna see Chloe lying over Lucifer's chest while he caresses her back and tells her stories he's lived through out history."
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 8
Kudos: 201





	Afterglow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnggelsWinggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnggelsWinggs/gifts).



> I wrote this in about an hour, if there are any glaring typos please let me know and I will fix it.

His hand sliding against her naked back was soothing and grounding in a way sex wasn’t. Whenever they were physically intimate, it was rushed and frantic. It was always amazingly passionate and it was truly the best sex she had ever had. But it was also undercut with notes of urgency and a desire to hold onto the moment because their time together was stilted and fragile. He would have to return to Hell soon, and both of them were anxious to get what they could from each other, while they could.

But like this, in the afterglow of that frenzied passion, it was still between them. He traced nonsensical patterns on her back and she luxuriated in the feel of his skin beneath hers as she laid draped across his chest. Her breaths synched with his, rising and falling in perfect harmony. There was no panic about stolen time in these moments. They simply existed together.

And oh, what an existence his had been. His voice was low and steady as he told her stories about his experiences. She never broke the spell to exclaim, preferring to let him ramble about the places he’d been and the people he’d met. Sometimes he would speak of his visits to Earth, sometimes the most despicable souls in Hell.

He told her once about Ignaz Semmelweis, a physician he knew in the 19th century.

_“You know how I am with children. Sticky, dirty, little things,” he’d traced a figure-eight across her shoulder blades, “I just commented that perhaps it wouldn’t be so terrible if childbirth weren’t so gruesomely messy.” He’d sighed and laid his hand flat at the base of her spine, massaging her lower back in tight circles._

_“I had no way of knowing he would get the idea that sterilizing could protect mothers and infants during birth. They killed him for that. Said he was insane and beat him to death in an asylum. He was a good man. I’m glad, I’ll never see him again.” She’d known he meant the doctor was in Heaven, and she’d kissed his collarbone to sooth any homesickness he might have been feeling._

_“Well anyways, they caught on later. I made sure his assailants were properly taken care of when they met their fate.”_

Tonight he spoke at length about his continuous struggle with enlightening the scientists of history about the geometric makeup of the planet, “It was quite vexing, my dear. I cannot believe how long it took me to convince them Earth was not flat!” He scratched his nails lightly up her spine. “The only upside to all that insufferable theoretical speak was that the Greeks were really quite magnificent lovers,” here he squeezed her hip a bit and began tracing large zigzags across her back with one finger.

“And to think there are still some who don’t believe it,” he drew a symbol she didn’t recognize over her left flank. “For centuries, I’ve done all that I could to convince you hopeless sods,” another symbol in the same place, “but I decided I’m quite done with that pointless quest.” A third symbol, and now she was curious what they meant.  
He was silent for a while, continuing to trace symbols on her back. She kept trying to understand what they were, but they were unrecognizable. After a while he seemed finished, and she propped her chin up on his chest to ask, “what was that?”

He hesitated a little, his eyes tightening slightly and his mouth turning down a fraction. “Ah, you noticed that, did you? Of course you did. Those were Enochian symbols. It’s the angelic language.”

He seemed uncomfortable to have to explain. She searched his face, trying to discern where the discomfort came from. He seemed insecure about it. She was curious but she didn’t want to force him to share, so she kept her voice gentle as she asked, “what does it mean?”

He looked like he didn’t want to answer, but he gazed into her eyes and as if she was the one with the mojo, he spoke automatically, “Oali nanaeel noncalvsd, micaloz zien blansg.”

He held her gaze steadily now, “It’s an oath, of sorts. Roughly translated, it means ‘I place all my power at your feet, that the light my hands bring will protect you.’”

His eyes blazed with his conviction, daring the universe to doubt him. She crawled up and stole his lips in a kiss that edged between grateful and fervent. When the kiss broke she whispered against his lips, “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oali – I have placed  
> Nanaeel – my power  
> Nonca, noncf, noncp – to you  
> lvsd - your feet
> 
> Micaloz – light  
> Zien – of my hands  
> Protect – blans, bransg


End file.
